


and all she has seen

by screechfox



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Demigods, F/M, Gods, Post-Canon, Ridgedog is terrible as usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 22:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12945372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screechfox/pseuds/screechfox
Summary: Everything bows to Zoeya, now. From animals that come up to sniff at her hand, unafraid, to the branches of the trees, dipping lower to brush their leaves across her hair.She takes it with her ever present good humour, which doesn’t surprise Rythian. She feeds the creatures berries; she runs her fingers through the emerald green and laughs in delight. He doesn’t think he’s imagining the way the forest seems brighter with her around.The sun glints in the gold of her eyes as she smiles at him, surrounded by her subjects.Zoeya is queen of the Twilight, and Rythian will follow her wherever she goes.





	and all she has seen

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes a short oneshot takes me a year to finish, but not this one! 
> 
> title from 'red queen' by area 11, because a) i am shameless and b) this is kind of a spiritual sequel to my zoeya character study.

Everything bows to Zoeya, now. From animals that come up to sniff at her hand, unafraid, to the branches of the trees, dipping lower to brush their leaves across her hair.

She takes it with her ever present good humour, which doesn’t surprise Rythian. She feeds the creatures berries; she runs her fingers through the emerald green and laughs in delight. He doesn’t think he’s imagining the way the forest seems brighter with her around.

The sun glints in the gold of her eyes as she smiles at him, surrounded by her subjects.

See, the most surprising thing is that the forest seems to bow to Rythian too. Not so often, and not with the same _deference_ , but it definitely happens.

“Maybe it thinks you’re my consort,” she teases, and he can feel himself flush. He tugs his scarf higher around his face and tries not to let it show.

 

It’s not as though he hasn’t considered it, of course. They haven’t really talked about the unspoken _thing_ that has sat between them for years now, but it hasn’t stopped it from occupying his thoughts more and more.

In all honesty, Rythian doesn’t know why _else_ the forest would dip its leaves to him.

He’s not Zoeya’s bodyguard, that’s for certain - Teep fills that role with sharp teeth and verve, and _he_ has to struggle through the undergrowth in a way that Rythian never really does. For Teep’s part, he seems amused by it, rolling his eyes every time it happens.

A part of him wonders if he’s Zoeya’s advisor, perhaps, but he always shakes that thought off with a laugh. When it comes to ruling, Zoeya takes his advice with a flick of his nose and a quip about how uptight he is. By now, he’s stopped trying - she seems to be doing pretty well all by herself.

Really, that _only_ leaves consort. The thought makes him want to run and hide, but he swallows his affections and buries them deep in his stomach.

He’ll play his part in this court of three, and he’ll do whatever is needed to keep it safe.

 

(In the soft dusk light as he tries to sleep, there is _one_ other possibility for why the forest treats him nearly so well as its queen.

Sooner or later, his tired thoughts always shift back to a lifeless kingdom; a kingdom made of white stone and shadowy figures; a kingdom floating in the middle of a void of static, impenetrable to the outside world.

A kingdom he left without a ruler, and boy, does he know it.)

 

Technically, they’re surveying her kingdom.

There’s still the occasional enderman slipping in through the cracks, after all - and, as Zoeya never fails to mention, it’s been nearly her whole life since she was last here.

Frankly, Rythian just thinks she wants the chance to explore.

Zoeya’s enthusiasm is infectious, though. He follows her through the endless trees, sleeping in the branches and ignoring the complaints of his aching back. It’s a small price to pay for her company, and she always seems to know the right herbs to ease the pain.

She tries to teach him magic, too, since he hasn’t managed to reclaim what he lost when they first entered together. The magic of the Twilight Forest is utterly different to everything he knows from before. It’s wild, powerful, and completely untamable.

So, completely fit for Zoeya, then.

Rythian doesn’t take to it, though. No matter how he tries, he cannot cast the simplest of spells in this strange new method. Zoeya doesn’t tease him about it, and he can’t tell if she’s being kind, or if she finds it as humourless as he does.

Oh well. He’s barely fought anything since the battle with the dragon, and he’s good enough with a sword to make up for a loss in magic. Teep even gives him a few pointers with a bow and arrow, so he can protect from afar.

He tries to tell himself that it doesn’t hurt, that it doesn’t feel like something inside him is missing. Sometimes, he isn’t even lying.

 

It’s bizarre, but Zoeya seems to be better at climbing with one arm than two.

Her metal arm broke after a fall from a tree, so it sits curled up at the bottom of her bag until they settle for long enough to fix it up. That is, if they can even find the materials to do so in this realm.

Frankly, Rythian is fairly sure that she could use her new magic to create a new arm without so much fuss, but when he mentions it, her face goes all pinched, and she runs her hand over the stump at her shoulder.

“I know I probably could, but… I think this is something I’ve got to do myself, yeah?”

He nods, finding himself somewhere in the middle of awestruck and dumbstruck. He doesn’t understand her, sometimes, in a way that makes his heart pound.

Still, she can outclimb him even with one arm, so Rythian thinks he really ought to up his game at some point.

 

They stumble over other portals, occasionally.

It's Rythian’s decision to make camp at this one, as Zoeya stares at it with an odd look on her face. He’s learning more and more to trust her instincts, especially where the forest is concerned.

Personally, he doesn’t see the difference between this portal and any other. The flowers around the edge are slightly more well-tended, maybe, but that’s about it.

He keeps an eye on it at all times as he sets up their bedrolls, and he can see Teep doing the same as he lights a campfire. Zoeya keeps looking at it too, like she’s expecting something to happen at any moment. She doesn’t say a word, just sits down on her bedroll and watches it carefully.

It would be worrying, but what the hell does Rythian know about the Twilight Forest, really?

He keeps one eye on the portal and one eye on Zoeya as he settles down to rest.

It stays like that for a while, though it’s impossible to tell how long for underneath the unchanging sky. Eventually, though, something changes. The portal bubbles, the flowers around it seem to bloom, and then a figure, broad-shouldered and tall, steps out of it.

It’s as if Zoeya’s been woken from a trance. She gets to her feet in one swift movement, a look of delight spreading across her face.

“Nice horns,” she says, by way of a greeting.

Well, Rythian has to admit, they _are_ nice horns. The figure has two long crystalline antlers in the same vivid blue as their eyes, of which they have an excessive amount. The figure smiles. It’s a warm sort of smile, neighbourly, but it still puts Rythian on edge, for some reason.

“Well, they’re certainly something,” the stranger says, sheepishness playing at the corners of their many eyes. “Not exactly _ideal_ , but, I mean, what can you do?”

Zoeya laughs, hand over mouth. Apparently there is a joke that Rythian isn’t getting. She bounds forwards, and, cautiously, Rythian gets up and follows.

The stranger’s gaze shifts to Rythian as he moves forward, and their smile grows even warmer. Rythian tugs his scarf higher around his face, feeling static in the air. He’d forgotten what it was like, meeting strangers.

“Who’s this, then?” Their tone is full of playful curiosity, and they tilt their head to the side.

Zoeya somehow grins wider, looking between the both of them and clapping her hands in delight.

“Kirin, this is Rythian! And also Teep’s over there.” She points across their camp with one finger. Teep looks as skeptical as ever, which is to say impressively. “And Rythian, this is Kirin. He kept the forest from falling apart when I was away.”

Hm. Maybe perpetual cheerfulness is just a feature of people from the Twilight Forest, or something.

 

As weeks pass, on and on through the woods, Rythian watches their little court change.

Despite the constant state of dusk, Zoeya is managing to freckle. In the right light, the spots on her skin glimmer like the stars above, and sometimes he thinks he recognises constellations.

She's gaining muscle, too - she can lift Rythian one-handed (don't ask him how he knows that) and can match Teep in arm-wrestling competitions. They make pretty good entertainment, and Rythian thinks she'll manage to beat him soon.

Teep hasn't escaped changes, either. Everything about him seems sharper: claws, teeth, even his scales themselves. Vibrant feathers have begun to grow on parts of his body, and he seems to be the only one not startled by this development - sitting and grooming through them after a long day.

Rythian peers at himself in rivers, and frowns. He hasn't changed a bit since they got here, and he can't place why.

 

Eventually, they return to the Brightlands. They’ve made the decision to settle, but they need to retrieve some supplies from their old desert home.

(Or, in Zoeya’s words: “If I have to spend forever somewhere _without_ chocolate milk, I'm abdicating this thing right now.”)

When they emerge from the portal, and the temple it’s hidden in, it’s blindingly sunny. Rythian had forgotten how bright it could be here, and judging by the way she shields her eyes, so had Zoeya.

“I wanted to say congratulations,” a wry voice says from behind them. “I'd been hoping you'd figure it out sooner or later.”

The voice is familiar, in some distant way that Rythian can’t quite place, and that’s the only reason his hand stays off his sword. Zoeya raises her chin high, and the three of them turn in near-unison.

Ridgedog is floating above the undergrowth, wearing the same wide and vicious grin as always.

“Godhood looks good on you. Very… wild and feral. Not really my sort of thing, but each to their own, right?”

No, Rythian thinks, staring at Zoeya as she steps forward. She isn’t wild, she isn’t feral, she’s _grounded_. Compared to her, Ridgedog looks unreal, too-perfect, like a porcelain doll with murderous tendencies.

“Bit late for congratulations,” Zoeya says. Her voice is light, but it’s a false cheerfulness, if Rythian knows her as well as he thinks. “It’s been _months_ since I took the throne.”

If Ridgedog notices the bite to her words, he doesn’t react to it.

“Oh, it’s been _years_ out here. Plenty’s happened, but it’s all been same old, same old. You know how it is.” He waves vaguely, floating closer.

“I don’t, but I’ll have to find out at some point!” Zoeya stands her ground, keeping a smiling eye contact with Ridgedog.. “But still! You didn’t have to wait around here when you could have given your well wishes _ages_ ago.”

“Oh, I’d have _loved to_ ,” Ridgedog says, his words dripping with false sincerity. “But Kirin and I had, well… a thing.” He makes a face, all wrinkled nose and childish pout. “I didn’t want to piss him off more by messing with his territory.”

He pauses for a moment, then laughs, tipping his head back.

“Who am I kidding? I’d love to piss him off more. It’s just that pissing off Kirin comes with _big_ payback, and I’ve had enough lightning to last me a lifetime or two. One of _yours_ ,” he says, looking at Rythian, “not one of mine.”

Zoeya opens her mouth to speak, but Ridgedog shushes her with a wave of the hand. Rythian feels anger rise in the back of his throat, but he forces himself to stay calm.

“Anyway, it was lovely chatting, but I’d better get back to important business before I’m missed.” Ridgedog raises his hand, then disappears without a trace.

Well. He certainly hasn’t got any less terrible over the years.

 

The desert somehow seems all the more desolate than before.

Rythian can’t tell if this is just because he’s used to the never-ending vitality of the Twilight Forest, or if the desert really _is_ more dead than ever. The only sound is their footsteps as they trudge through the dunes.

When they reach what remains of the camp, it’s abandoned. It seems like only luck stopped it from being buried entirely, and a layer of sand covers everything the eye can see.

Idly, Rythian wonders if it’d be worth it to haul his magic books back to the forest. They wouldn’t be of much use to anyone, but he doesn’t want to abandon perfectly good knowledge just because of that.

(“Ugh,” Zoeya says, inspecting her old machinery, “why does sand have to get _everywhere_?”)

It takes the course of the day, but together, they pack up some basic supplies. Their tent, for one. Some potions, too - the remainder of Rythian’s stores from long ago. They pick up some cocoa beans, of course, since that is ostensibly the whole point of the trip.

Teep disappears into the dusty remains of his tower as the sun begins to go down. It’s too late to head back to the portal - none of them are used to the nighttime monsters anymore - so Rythian settles down to rest.

He can hear Zoeya walking the perimeter, humming to herself, and then she comes and collapses beside him in a pile of limbs.

God, Rythian doesn’t know how she gives off so much body heat.

They lie together like that as the stars pass over them, and when they set off in the morning, they link their fingers together.

(Teep rolls his eyes, but then, he would.)

**Author's Note:**

> there was also meant to be some stuff to do with rythian and the End, and nilesy's general immortality, but i didn't feel like it fit in this fic properly. oh well!
> 
> as always, you can find me at screechfoxes on tumblr!


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